


Ice Filled Him

by NightWind



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: A/B/O Universe, Alpha Bruce Banner, Alpha Phil Coulson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Clint Barton, Omega Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-18
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-06 22:23:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10345806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightWind/pseuds/NightWind
Summary: It has been seventy years since he went into the ice and in that time the world had moved on without him. Searching for a hero they awoke him from his slumber but the ice cannot melt without the warmth of its Sun.





	1. Ice Filled Him

 

I know it is probably a horrible idea to post an unfinished story with my work load but I am full of horrible ideas.

 

 

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Ice filled him and he prayed for the warmth of his Sun. Time was meaningless in the cold. Pain was an after thought and even his own name was not worth the effort to remember. But his wish for his Sunlight was a constant. Even when the darkness and cold of the ice took him and he was aware of nothing the desire for his Sun remained.

Time passed, meaningless in the embrace of the ice and the Soldier slept on dreaming of his Sun.

  


Thunder that could be felt in the Soldier's marrow entered the prison of ice followed by the whine of a thousand angry hornets. The Soldier noted the change in a distracted way before cataloging the change as unimportant and going back to his dreams of his Sun.

  


The next thing he became aware of was a harsh light suffusing his prison of ice. The light ground at his retinas in a harsh mockery of the diffuse, all encompassing light of his Sun. This light illuminated without providing any of the gentle warmth of his Sunlight and for the first time in forever the Soldier was aware of a desire different from the desire for his Sun; the desire to move, to black out the harsh light surrounding him. He got as far as twitching his trigger finger before he fell back into dreams of his Sun.

  


The drone of a radio awakens him next. Without opening his eyes or moving a muscle he takes in the area around him and his physical condition. The radio is playing a baseball game from '41 making him immediately aware that this is staged but underneath the sound of the radio and the whose, whose of the fan he can hear the sounds of a multitude of people moving around in a large enclosed space. The noises are strangely muffled and after a moment of thought he realized that the sounds were filtering in to him through the solid walls of the room he was in.

  


Making sure that his body stays in the relaxed guise of sleep, he categorizes the sounds outside his room. From the sounds of it there are at least twenty people in the larger room outside the one he is currently in but no one in the smaller room that he is lying in. He can make out the sound of heavy boots shifting on concrete and the sounds of loafers walking across the concrete floor. Strangely he also hears the sound of a pair of heels on the floor as they move position to stand with a group of the loafer wearers. For a wild moment he thinks that maybe it is Peggy out there and that he had been rescued from the crash site then reason reasserts itself and he realizes that Peggy would never have condoned the type of subterfuge that the staged radio program hints at.

  


Making sure that his body remains relaxed in fained sleep he strains his hearing to catch the murmur of conversation from the group.

"....should be waking up any moment. Amazing how undamaged he is given the length of time he was frozen. I hope that we’ll be able to replicate the serum from the samples we have so far. Imagine the advantages it could give our agents," a woman's voice said from within the group. He forced his body to stay relaxed even though the only thing he wanted to do was tear through this building and find and destroy those samples. He had had more than enough experience, through his interactions with the Redskull, with the monsters the serum could make when used for the sole purpose of violence. He had no illusions but that he might have become such a monster if it was not for the light from his Sun.

He turned his wandering thoughts from his memories to the conversation outside the room he was in and heard a deep male voice answer the woman.

"Doctor Simmons, I appreciate your enthusiasm but at the moment I am more concerned with how we can handle the Captain so that we can ensure his cooperation. Is everything setup, Agent Misoren," the man's voice asked.

"The containment room is setup to look like a 1944 American hospital room. It should work to sooth the Captain until we can setup a more secure area, Director," a man, presumable Agent Misoren, told the other man.

He decided that he has heard enough, he needed to get out of here before they could move him to this more secure location. Opening his eyes he took a moment to take in the room he was in before he slowly sat up feigning a weakness he did not really feel. Outside the room he heard a voice exclaim with subdued excitement "The subject has just awoken."

Silence reigned outside the room for a moment until he heard the shift of someone moving and the tale tale clicking of a gun against a belt clip. He kept a frown off his face as he tried to determine how many armed opponents he will have to face before he mentally shook himself and scolded himself to just expect all the people in the other room to be armed in some way. The clicking of heels approaching the room made him want to turn his attention towards the door but he resisted the desire while pretending to look out the window. Looking at the window also allowed him to angle his ear toward the door, letting him listen to the woman in heels approach and the other people in the room moving quietly to different positions in the other room.

The door clicked open and a pretty female omega in an SSR uniform walked into the room. She smiled widely at him and he smiled back with a flirtatious wink. He watched with detachment as the omega flushed prettily and he turned up his smile a little more even as he took in the way she moved and the best way to disarm her with the least amount of effort. Her interest in him could definitely be used to his advantage.

"Well, doll, you are a sight for sore eyes. Mind helping a fella up. I think I have been lazing about so much that my leg has fallen asleep on me," he told her with a cocky grin.

"Captain, I don't think," she started but quickly cut off as he ignored her and started to stand. It was the easiest thing in the world to fake his right leg giving out on him. Without thinking about it she stepped into help him and keep him from falling. He felt a little bad as he pretended to completely lose his battle with gravity and forced most of his weight onto her. The weight of a two hundred and fifty pound alpha essentially falling on her forced her to the ground and a cry of pain escaped her as her leg twisted underneath her. His guilt intensified but he pushed it away. He had never been the type of alpha to pick on an omega or really anyone weaker than him but he cannot afford to fall into Hydra's or the Nazi's hands. Knowing he only had minutes before her allies outside figured out that something more than a bit of clumsiness had occurred he put an apologetic look on his face before putting a hand high on her shoulder in a move that should look apologetic and helpful from the angle of the cameras but put him in a perfect position to snap her neck should she scream.

"Sorry about that, doll. Guess I should have been a bit more careful," he said for the benefit of their watchers then added in a faux concerned voice "Didn't hurt you too bad did I?"

She looked up at him with a pained smile while clutching her ankle but the smile slipped from her face to be replaced by a look of fear as she noticed that his cheerful tone of voice did not at all match his cold expression.

"If you don't want me to snap your neck you will tell me how many are out there and what kinds of weapons they have," he told her softly. She shook her head furiously her eyes wide and frightened.

"Captain," she started to say but stopped with a squeak when he squeezed the base of her neck. Tears of pain came to her eyes and she stared at him pleadingly.

He stared her down, pushing down the instinctive alpha part of him that recoiled at hurting an omega, and growled softly at her "Doll, that was your only warning. I don't want to hear how this is all innocent and how I am in an SSR hospital. I heard enough through the walls to know that is a damn lie but even if I hadn't the game on the radio is three years old not something that would be playing like a current game. I knew you Hydra goons were stupid but even I thought you were smarter than this. Now how many guards are out there and are they carrying energy weapons?"

"Captain," she said in a whisper, shaking like a leaf but still managing to meet his eyes "I know you are naturally confused as to what is going on but I swear to you we are not Hydr...aw."

She stopped as he squeezed her neck hard enough to grind the delicate bones of her neck together. Any more pressure and he knew that she would be dead in moments and from the terrified look on her face she had realized this too. Despite her terror, he noted with respect that she did not cower from him. Her bravery in the face of insurmountable odds reminded him so much of his Sun that he could almost see the jerk putting up his fists as he prepared to fight an alpha twice his size and whose every breath didn't rasp loudly in his chest like it might be his last.

  


He told himself later that it was his preoccupation with his memories that saved the omega in front of him as she yelled out that they are not Hydra but a deeper part of him had already acknowledged that he couldn't kill her while she had such a brave and defiant look in her eyes. With a curse he spun and pushed her light form onto the bed before turning to stare coldly at the group of guards boiling into the room from the only door. He analyzed the situation quickly, determining that he could take the guards (too tightly bunched together, get in each others way more than mine a part of him noted) but that it would cost him valuable time that he didn't have at the moment. Hydra had never been overly concerned for its troops and if they thought they could take him down by gassing the room he didn't think they would hesitate because it might kill a few if theirs.

Making a quick decision he decided to just make another door and hope that the walls of this room were as thin as he thought based on the ease with which he had head the Hydra agents conversation. Two guards were foolish enough to get in his way and with a vicious smirk he knocked their guns to the side and with a hand on each of their chests he used them like a shield to smash the wall and keep the sharper pieces of rubble off him. Once through the wall he immediately noted several guards coming toward him. He tossed the two guards at the incoming troops before running fast from the area.

Rushing from the huge room he came out into a brightly lit corridor with a whole bank of windows framing one side of the corridor. He blinked at the floor to ceiling windows wondering for a moment how they managed to get the damn things not to shatter under their own weight. He threw the thought off in favor of scanning the corridor for any immediate threats. Several people were staring at him in surprise but no one had yet gone for a weapon. Knowing that could change at anytime he picked a direction at random and raced for a door he could just make out at the end of the corridor.

Bursting through the door brought him out into a bright sunlit street filled with some truly strange cars. Ignoring the strangeness of the cars he raced down the street until he came to a square with huge screens on each of the buildings depicting so many different things that he got a bit dizzy trying to take them all in. Not even at the big cinemas had he seen such clear and vibrantly colored pictures.

Allowing himself to become distracted by the big screens proved to be a huge mistake as within moments he was surrounded by cars on all sides. A black man with a patch over one eye got out of one of the cars and he immediately zeroed in on him. The man reeked of authority despite only being a beta and despite the men with guns surrounding him he immediately placed this man higher on his threat list.

"At ease soldier," the man barked. He stared back at the man coldly making the men with the weapons shift uncomfortably. He smirked internally at their unease, that fear and uncertainty could be of great value to him when he made his move to escape but first he needed to deal with the immediate threat in front of him, namely the guy who was obviously in charge.

"You are no commander of mine," he growled letting the ice that had been his constant companion slip in to his voice and had the satisfaction of seeing some of the guards around them shiver in alarm. His internal smirk widened and with cold detachment he noted these new points of weakness; specifically a knot of guards by a vehicle to his left. Unfortunately the beta in charge only narrowed his eyes in thought at his tone and he noted that also. 'Guy is used to standing up to strong alphas,' he thought and placed the guy higher on his threat list with a touch of respect.

"I'm Director Nick Fury, head of SHIELD, and have been given direct command over you by the United States Army," the man, Fury, said evenly. He stared at Fury for several seconds before letting a sneer settle on his face. 'Time to test this guy,' he thought with amusement.

"That's real interesting, Director," he added the last part with a slight but noticeable sneer and had the pleasure of watching the guy stiffen in anger. 'Hook's set let's see how this big fish wiggles on the line,' he thought as he deliberately straightened from his fighters crouch into something far more menacing.

"Well I'm sure they briefed you real good, Director. Just leaves me to wander who you pissed off enough to make them want you dead," he said thickening his Brooklyn accent until each word was drawled out contrasting sharply with the cold, sharp smirk on his face.

"I've pissed off a lot of people over the years, Captain, any number of who would like me dead," Fury told him confidently but he could see the uncertainty in his eyes and he knew he had shaken him.

"Takes a special kind though to get your allies to assign a Solinite alpha to your command," he sneered as he made sure that an insulting amount of fang was shown as he did so.

The Director stiffened further and honestly he couldn't blame him. Solinite alphas were the lowest of the low. Never able to form proper packs due to their hostility towards betas, they had even been known to kill beta pups that they had. At best they could be put in asylums but even those were short gap measures and usually Solinite alphas were executed before they could harm any more people. The condition was extremely rare, 1 in maybe every 10 million live births, but when it did occur it was usually the stuff of nightmares. It wasn't just that they went after betas they would also take out their insanity on other alphas and even omegas.

'Well, Director,' he thought coldly 'you have the bait let's see if you know how to get off the hook.'

Fury actually seemed stunned for all of five seconds before he schooled his features but his lapse was all he needed to know that he had no idea what was going on or how to respond to the code.

"There are treatments," Fury started but he cut him off with a laugh.

The man stared at him as though he was unhinged but quickly realized his error when he turned to grin at him cockily.

"Wrong answer, Mister, but thanks for playing our game. Maybe I'll send you Hydra goons a conciliation prize later," he told the man cheerily before he exploded into action an adrenaline fueled grin on his face as he busted through the knot of troops he had noticed earlier. He caught sight of Fury's face as he sprinted down an alley and considered that Dum Dum might be right; he did seem to enjoy screwing with the Hydra scums' heads a little too much.

"I definitely don't seem to be good for their blood pressure," he mused quietly to himself as he grinned at the memory of Fury's expression as he had made his escape.

 

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Hope you enjoyed. And for a bit of good news I do have several chapters already written for this and hope to write another tonight. :)

 

 

 

 


	2. The Chase is On

Thank you all for the support and I hope you enjoy!

 

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Phil Coulson quickly hopped from the helicopter onto the roof of the SHIELD New York office, a bubble of excitement making him want to hurry into the building but with an effort he maintained his dignified stride. From the smirk Clint shot his way he could tell that the beta had guessed at his feelings but wisely he kept his mouth shut. Natasha at least pretended that she did not know how excited he was to meet his idol.

If it were anyone else he might feel a bit bad about his fan boyish behavior but he had maintained and still maintained that Captain America was worthy of such admiration. He wondered ideally if the Captain might consent to signing his trading cards once he was awake and had been debriefed.

His thoughts were derailed as an agent came running toward him a barely veiled look of panic on his face. He instantly shifted into emergency management mode and felt more than saw Natasha and Barton shift stride as they readied for a fight.

"Sir, Captain America has broken containment and has made his way into the corridors. Director Fury is going after him but sent me to bring you down to the control room to provide any intel or advice you might have."

The agent had barely finished speaking before they were racing past him and into the secure elevator. Quickly he brought out his key card and flashed it at the scanner. As the detector beeped he typed in an emergency code into the panel by the door.

"Hold onto the rails tight," he shouted to the other two who nodded grimly before he took a secure hold himself before pressing the floor number for the control room. Immediately it was as if the cables of the elevator had been cut and they were rocketing downward. The sensation had his stomach leaping into his chest area but he merely gritted his teeth. Looking at the other two he actually saw Clint shoot Natasha a shit eating grin which she answered with a smirk of her own. He sighed as he mentally asked himself why he was always picking the crazy, adrenaline junkies for his team.

"I am scheduling both of you for an early phyc eval," he murmured and watched as their grins widened. Clint looked particularly proud as he said happily "Oh good, haven't seen Hannah in two weeks. She must be missing me by now."

Phil shot an unimpressed look at Clint, as his confrontational nature with his therapists was well known, but was saved from commenting by the emergency brakes slamming on. He very nearly lost his grip on the railing as they were abruptly slammed upwards but was saved from smashing into the ceiling by Natasha wrapping her legs around his and Clint swinging his entire body over his. His heart lurched as Clint let go of the railing with one hand during one part of the maneuver convinced the archer would lose his grip completely but with a deft twist Clint managed to grab the rail by the side of his head.

Clint catching the residual concern in his eyes leaned next to his ear and whispered to him with a grin "This is certainly my favorite part of this mission so far."

Phil let out a put upon sigh before deftly flipping the smart ass little shit onto his stomach as the elevator came to a screeching halt.

"And this is mine," he whispered to him before rising smoothly to his feet.

"Barton, Romanof stay with me until we figure out the situation," he ordered as he easily fell into the role of lead agent.

The elevator opened onto the secure floor with a swipe of his security card and a quickly typed passcode. They walk into a hall eerily quite but beyond the double doors at the end of the hall they could hear a babble of noise. As one they moved down the hall and walked into a scene of organized chaos. People were flitting from station to station trying to gather information while on the big screen a picture of Captain America in what looked like Times Square was front and center on the monitors. The Captain was looking around the area with a considering look and Coulson cursed whoever thought it was a good idea to focus in so much on the Captain without panning the shot to include his surroundings.

  


He took in the chaos of the room and with a sigh stepped forward to get the agents back in order.

"Sit rep," he barked and watched as several of the agents froze before an agent approached him quickly.

"Sir," the alpha started respectfully "Captain America broke containment a little over six minutes ago. He broke out of SHIELD headquarters through the back of the building, he then ran out onto the street on the left side of the building before arriving in Times Square. He paused in Times Square for approximately a minute which gave the Director and the containment squad time to catch up with him. They have made contact with the Captain and are attempting to talk him down."

Coulson nodded before motioning the man back to his station.

"Pan out the screen I want a good visual of the area around the Captain. Get me audio also," he ordered. He noted the way that Natasha wandered the room taking in various statistics on the screens but ignored her for now as he knew that she would eventually report back with what she found.

Soon enough the sounds from the square fill the room. Coulson studied the screen as he watched the Captain straighten up from his fighters crouch into a threatening alpha stance. The stance immediately sent alarm bells ringing in his head as the stance was so atypical of the Captain America he had seen in both public and classified films. From the right side of the room he saw Natasha freeze up slightly and cock her head, one of her few tales for when a situation or person was confusing her, before resuming her roaming around the room. He could tell she was keeping an eye on the screen while appearing to be paying it no attention.

The next words out of the Captain's mouth had his hackles rising involuntarily and once more he saw Natasha freeze before she was making her way easily toward him.

She reached him just as the Captain drawled in a thick, 1940s Brooklyn accent "Well I'm sure they briefed you real good, Director. Just leaves me to wander who you pissed off enough to make them want you dead."

"He is deliberately baiting, the Director," Natasha murmured from beside him and he glanced at her before going back over the tone and way that the Captain was holding himself. Suddenly the niggling suspicion he had had that something was not right came together into a fractured picture with several of the pieces remaining outside of his reach.

"But why," he asked as he forced his muscles to relax. Even knowing that the tone and stance were contrived the acting was good enough that his body was still trying to react instinctively to the provocation.

"Unknown," Natasha murmured as Fury said on screen "I've pissed off a lot of people over the years, Captain, any number of who would like me dead."

"Fury is rattled," Natasha remarked quietly and he nodded. The unease was not obvious but Coulson could read his superior's unease and confusion in the set of his shoulders and the slight pinch of his mouth. Thankfully anyone else should not have noticed the reactions but as he glanced at Captain America he realized that the man was not just anyone and that he had realized exactly how his actions had affected the Director.

"Get me on a secure line to the director," Coulson ordered one of the communication techs. The woman nodded nervously before turning back to her console and typing quickly.

"Takes a special kind though to get your allies to assign a Solinite alpha to your command."

Those words dropped into the room like a bomb and distantly Coulson was aware that even Natasha had to repress a flinch but for Coulson the words had suddenly slammed the last piece of the puzzle into place and the picture presented made him go cold.

"Get me that secure connection now," he barked at the technician who blinked at him from where she had frozen before hurrying back to setting up a secure feed.

"He can't actually be a Solinite can he," a technician asked from the row in front of them, a near heart broken expression on his face.

"No, he is not. Timothy "Dum Dum" Dugan was a beta under his direct command during WW 2. There interactions were well recorded, the pair were apparently known for pulling pranks together during down time, there is no way that he could be a Solinite," Coulson told them simply as he waited for the technician to setup the connection while praying that the Director would not answer the question.

"It is a code," Clint said as several of the techs looked at them hopefully "and if the Director answers incorrectly it will solidify Captain America's belief that we are HYDRA."

Suddenly, the atmosphere tensed as the techs shifted their attention to the screen or to the tech racing to setup the connection. The young woman had sweat on her brow but she finally sat back with a huge grin as she handed him a headset saying triumphantly "The connection is ready, sir."

His heart plummeted when as his fingers touched the headset he heard the Director's voice telling the Captain that there were therapy's for Solinites. The hearty laugh that the Captain let out felt like a splash of cold water.

Without a moment's hesitation he ordered "Romanof, Barton head out and intercept Captain America. Do your best to bring him in without hurting him?"

The two nodded before racing out the door and he told the crushed looking tech from earlier to set the headset he currently has to include the frequency from Natasha and Clint's coms. The young woman nodded determinedly and within a moment he heard both Clint and Natasha's coms click into sync with his.

"Director, I have Barton and Romanof heading to intercept Captain America," Coulson told Fury as he watches the screen where several different images are on screen. All the images appear to be from the dash or body cameras of agents with one screen flashing through images taken from security cameras in the area. As he watches the Captain dodges to the left at a group of three SHIELD operatives. One of the operatives moves to fire their stun gun but is fouled by one of her fellows jerking back into the path of the shot. Coulson grimaces as he notes the smirk on the Captain's face and realizes that the man had noted the agents lack of experience and was exploiting it now. Without effort the Captain breaks through the perimeter line and off into the streets of New York.

A few foolish agents try to fire their stun guns and dart pistols after the Captain's darting form and Coulson winces as he sees one stunner almost hit an onlooker.

"Cease fire," Fury shouts angrily over the mics and thankfully the few agents who had been foolish enough to fire after the retreating Captain pull back guiltily.

"Coulson, I want all streets closed off in the area and techs going through the old files trying to find any other codes that we might be able to use," Fury barks as Coulson sees him climbing back into his car. The crowd of onlookers is going to slow him down immensely in the car but given the Captain's top rate of speed nothing but the cars will be able to catch up to him at this point.

Muting his mic, Coulson issues orders quickly before moving out of the room and activating the private link to the Director's communication set.

"Sir, I have several cars moving into position to block off routes out of Manhattan, as well as three copters in the air. With your permission I will also send someone to Peggy Carter's home to see if she can remember anything that might be useful," Coulson says neutrally. He can hear Fury practically grinding his teeth in anger and frustration at what just happened, and plainly Coulson couldn't blame him. The whole situation was a giant cluster fuck and Coulson was going to go over the whole operation from the beginning to see why they now had a national icon running around New York with the belief that Hydra was after him.

"With Carter's dementia anything we do get will be suspect at best," Fury finally says with forced calm. Coulson knows that tone well, it is the tone that Nick uses when he is beating himself up over a mission gone wrong. It is rare for a mission that the Director heads personally to go south but when it does he always takes it hard.

"There is one other option that we might try, sir," Coulson tells him as he pulls up the SHIELD secure net on his phone.

"I am open to any suggestions at this point," Fury growls. Coulson lifts an eyebrow as he hears the man let out several colorful curses as the sound of the crunching of metal comes over the speakers.

"Sir, are you alright," Coulson asks worried as he listens to the sounds of Fury cursing over the sounds of crashing cars and squeeling tires.

"Get medical to the area around 6th Avenue and W. 47th Street. We have several agents down," Fury growls out over the communal comms then adds having switched to the private channel with Coulson "We need more intel on this Bastard. He just ripped up a light pole and used it like a javelin to take out the left tire of the lead vehicle and sent it into a tale spin taking out two other cars. Our files didn't report that he had that kind of strength. What was your other option?"

"Jim Morita, he is the only surviving member of the Howling Commandos," Coulson tells him as he is pulling up the information on Morita's whereabouts. He sighs quietly when he sees that the man is still living in San Francisco.

"Which one is that," Fury demanded distractedly. In the background Coulson could hear the sounds of the crash receding as he answered "He was the omega on the team. After the war he married an alpha doctor in San Francisco and largely disappeared from the public spotlight. But as of our last report, despite his age, he still retains his mental acuity."

"Get the San Francisco field agents to interview him and find out what he knows," Fury barked before cutting the secure feed in favor of the general comms.

Coulson walked calmly back into the Control Room and immediately had one of the techs that he had assigned to go through the old WW2 files beside him.

"Sir, we are still going through the files that have been digitized but we have found that most of the files have not yet been digitized and are currently in a secure government facility in Washington, DC," the tech told him nervously. Coulson resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and instead simply nodded to the tech as he told him to get what he could off the computers.

Quickly, he sent off a text to Deputy Director Hill in DC to notify her of their urgent need for the information in those files. He trusted that she would have agents at the secure facility as quickly as possible in order to go through the file. Knowing her he wouldn't doubt that she would oversee the project herself given the urgency of his text. As expected the buzzing of his phone alerts him to a text message moments later and he saw a text message from Hill with the words 'Leaving now.'

Turning his attention back to the multiple images on the main screen he prepared to wait as they searched for the Captain.


	3. Standoff at Carnegie Hall

Thank you for the wonderful reviews and kudos! Enjoy!

 

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Clint gunned the SHIELD motorcycle he had grabbed from the garage as he weaved around yet another SHIELD vehicle that the Captain had totaled. That made the eighth vehicle that he had seen that the Captain has taken out of commission and he grimaced guiltily as he sped by and saw the agents leaning or sitting beside the vehicle waiting for medical. A big part of him wanted to stop and help but he knew that it was more important that he complete his mission. As he cleared the wreck he glanced to his right as Natasha pulled up beside him and saw her worry in the slight stiffness around her eyes that anyone not very well acquainted with her would miss. He quirked an eyebrow at her and she responded with a series of finger signals that they had come up with so they could communicate more easily on covert ops when silence was a must or when distance made communication impossible.

'Watch your sixth. Bad feeling. This guy is better than intel suggested,' she signs quickly, a grim set to her mouth. Clint understands perfectly how she feels. No one in their field ever liked to walk into a situation lacking vital intel but against a man that had literally been referred to as a 'one man army' their lack of intel could be fatal to themselves or others.

'Plan,' he signs back as he races down the deserted streets. He is relieved that they had been able to get civilians off the streets, at least.

'Let me engage in close combat. Stay behind and snipe from cover,' she signed fast. He grinned wildly back at her before signing back 'My favorite plan.'

She smirked back slightly before they focused into the comms as one of the techs sent an all call message that Captain America had just been spotted near Carnegie Hall and without a word they raced forward.

"Barton and Romanof moving to intercept. Two blocks away. Anyone around to intercept and stall him," Clint called over the comms as they ducked through side alleys and ran through red lights without slowing.

"We are intercepting him now, Agent Barton," a voice called over the speakers and Clint heard the wom, wom of a copter before he say the slick, black shape descend from the sky to where the Captain presumably was.

Seconds later he heard a voice through the speakers and dimly over a microphone say "Captain, please put your hands up and...aww."

The voice cut off in a shriek and a second later he heard another voice yell loudly from up ahead and curse word before the sounds of the copter hitting the ground reached them followed by several tremors that rocked the buildings around them. Moments later they raced onto W 56th Street and were able to see the copter embedded in a building as the blades shrieked against concrete as the motor still turned. As they watched the motor finally blew sending sparks flying and with a wrenching of metal the destroyed copter started to peel free from the building in slow motion before with a wrenching sound it crashed the last ten feet to the ground.

Clint spotted the two agents from the copter several meters away and noted with a hint of relief that both were still alive though one was clutching a badly broken leg while the other seemed to have wrenched his arm out of socket. The two men spotted them and both waved them toward an alley further down the street.

"He ducked down that alley just a moment ago," the man holding his arm shouted to them as they approached. As they zipped by the man clutching his leg gasped over the comm "Be careful the intel way underestimates him. He jumped at least twenty feet up to grab the copter's skids and swing in. He had us both down in seconds and crashed the copter soon after."

Clint grimaced and saw the set of Natasha's mouth tightened. This situation was escalating fast and the only reason they had not had agents killed yet was that the Captain had seemed to be actively trying not to kill anyone, for whatever reason. Clint hoped that a small part of the man might still be questioning whether they were Hydra and that they could use that part to reason the man down without hurting him. He really did not want to see Phil's expression if they were forced to shoot his childhood hero, plus the press would eviscerate them once they found out that Captain America had been hurt by SHIELD. He had no doubt that this would eventually make it onto the news. The fight had been over too large of an area and while they had been keeping civilians off the streets he had seen more than one cell phone peeking out of windows as they rode by. It would be impossible to keep that many people quiet, no matter how hard SHIELD might try. He could already hear the PR department stewing and they tried to figure out how to spin this giant cluster fuck.

They zipped down the alley out onto W 57th street just as Captain America turned toward them from the opposite side of the street. Without a word they both brought their bikes around and to a stop as they eyed the Captain wearily. Clint climbed off his bike so that he could use it as a shield if necessary while pulling out and stringing his bow. Natasha remained straddling her bike in a way that Clint knew allowed her to start the bike quickly, use the bike as a shield, or use the bike as a launching pad.

Clint assessed the situation quickly, taking in the parked cars along the street, the lack of bystanders, and that only the car right behind the Captain was close enough to the man to provide cover if it came to a fight.

"I am really starting to get annoyed with this little game of hide-and-seek you and your friends have been playing with me," the Captain growled in a low voice that fairly screamed alpha. The voice clawed at a primitive part of him that screamed at him to submit but he just gritted his teeth and stared back at the Captain without flinching. The Captain was not the first pissed off alpha that he or Natasha had faced off against but Clint had to admit that he had the best alpha voice that he had ever heard. While betas and omegas could be leaders just as well or better than alphas an alphas voice gave them a certain edge as the subsonic edge they could inject it with called to the hind brain of a person and all put demanded respect and from that respect obedience.

Natasha held up her hands in a soothing gesture "I can assure you Captain we would like nothing more than for this to be over and I think if you will let us explain you will realize that an error has been made."

The Captain kept his eyes on her despite the fact that Clint was the one with the obvious weapon and Clint wondered if the man were dismissing him because he had a bow or because he was a beta. Neither scenario fit with the facts he knew about the man and he knew far more about Captain America than most just due to living with Phil. Phil had sworn the Captain was one of the most brilliant tacticians of this century and Clint had a hard time imagining that such a man would ignore an unknown quantity in battle and Clint was sure that the Captain did view this as a battle. Clint scrutinized the Captain taking in his expression and body language but for the life of him he could not figure out what the Captain was thinking or planning. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Natasha to see if she had a read on the man but while her body language and expression were seemingly open he could see by the slight tension of her neck that she had not yet gotten the feel of the man.

Clint's complete attention was drawn back to the Captain as the man seemed to sag slightly backwards onto the car behind him. The tension seemed to lessen around the man as he brought a hand up to rub tiredly at his eyes.

"And what would you like to talk about, Doll. Maybe how the last time I was outside the Hall most of these buildings weren't here or maybe about how the whole of New York has changed seemingly over night," the man asked them weariness in his every word and Clint had to keep himself from flinching in surprise and sympathy. None of them had thought the Captain would have noticed so much in his wild run through the city. For a moment, he saw that even Natasha had broken composure, only a slight tightening of the muscles around her eyes but in anyone else that would have been an exclamation of surprise. The moment passed quickly as Natasha allowed her body to smoothly shift into lines of sympathy, compassion, and understanding and Clint felt a little bit in awe of her level of perception. He was no slouch when it came to reading a situation and blending into that situation but Natasha took the art of espionage to a whole new level.

Clint watched as the Captain slumped further against the car staring sadly at Natasha before he asked softly a hitch to his voice "How long has it been?"

 

"Almost seventy years, Captain. The year is two thousand and thirteen," Natasha told him sympathetically a soft look on her face.

 

Clint wished she had broken it to the man a little easier as he slumped down to the ground staring straight ahead with a vacant, broken gaze.

 

"Captain," Natasha asked and Clint detected a real note of concern in her voice this time.

 

"Sorry, Doll, that was just a little bit more time than I thought," the man answered looking back up at them with a slight bitter twist of his lips.

"Captain, I understand you are distressed but if you let us we can help. SHIELD has people who can get you acclimated to this century, help you adjust and start a new life," Natasha told him quietly as she quietly slid off her bike and walked toward him. She crouched down several yards away from him and held out her hand allowing the final call to be his whether to take their help or not. Clint watched the scene for a minute as the Captain seemed to mull over her offer his head down and face obscured from his view. Natasha stiffening in his peripheral vision had him turning some of his attention to her but moments later his full attention was drawn back to the Captain as he heard the groaning of metal and saw a large blur coming toward them fast.

 

"Natasha," he yelled as he dodged to the left of the object which he realized belatedly was the car the Captain had been leaning against. He cursed mentally as he realized that the bastard had drawn them in and waited until they both had lowered their guard to attack. Gritting his teeth he brought his bow up as he twisted away from the car. He fixed his mental landscape in his head even as he dodged the car and was already releasing his shot as the car sailed by him and he was falling to the pavement. The glint of metal heading toward him had him reacting instinctively and without a thought he used his bow to block the first knife headed for him and deflect the second so that it buried in his leg instead of in his gut but he missed the third knife completely as it embedded into his left shoulder. He screamed as he smacked into the pavement and the car finished sailing by narrowly missing taking out his right leg as it skidded across the pavement.

 

Clenching his lip between his teeth hard enough to draw blood he forced himself to take in the situation around him. As he blinked back tears of pain the Captain flicked two more knives at Natasha before racing through a nearby alley and disappearing in shadow. Natasha dodged the knives but hesitated as she caught sight of him lying on the ground in a swiftly spreading puddle of his own blood.

 

'Go, I got this," Clint gritted out, hoping that was true but knowing she had to intercept the Captain before he reached Central Park and they lost him for good. She still looked worried but nodded regardless and raced after the disappearing figure.

 

Carefully, he dragged himself up into a sitting position and looked over his injuries. The knife in his leg had hit the bone but thankfully had not hit any major blood vessels but the knife still in shoulder had definitely hit at least one artery. As he watched bright red blood spurted sluggishly from around the knife then the blood flow slowed for a moment before surging once more.

 

'Flowing out with the beat of my heart,' he realized as he dug into a side pocket of his pants pocket looking for the small field kit he kept on him at all times. The process was made more awkward by the fact that his left hand refused to move so he had to use his right hand to root around in his left pocket. Finally he sighed in relief as he pulled the small field kit from his pocket and flipped it open with a flick of his thumb. He used the bonding agent inside to seal the area around the knife in order to slow the blood flow.

 

"Clint," Phil's worried voice sounded over the comms and Clint realized dazedly that he must have called for him several times as the tone of his voice was tight and worried.

 

"Yeah," Clint slurred then swallowing he dug the heel of his hand into the pavement to fight off the shock he could feel threatening to engulf him "I'm hear. Going to need a medic."

 

"One is on the way. What happened," Phil demanded loudly the worry plain in his voice making Clint wince. It was rare for Phil to fall out of the role of perfect lead agent while on the job and Clint knew he had only allowed himself to slip so far because of his worry for Clint.

 

"We thought we were getting through to him but he waited until we were distracted and threw a car at us," Clint snarled his voice rising in slight outrage at the fact that the alpha had actually thrown a car at them.

 

"It wasn't even a nice car," Clint muttered in a slurred voice as he continued to apply pressure to his shoulder wound. A beat of silence is his answer from over the radio before Phil's voice comes through his comm calm and all business again.

 

"Barton, how badly are you hurt?"

 

"Knife to the leg and one to the left shoulder. Captain must have picked up some steak knives from some of the tables in the outdoor restaurants he passed. Lifted knives from at least two different places judging by the designs on the knives," Clint forced himself to stop babbling as he gritted his teeth and took a deep breath "Think I am going into shock a bit. The knife to the shoulder hit an artery and I lost a lot of blood before I got the wound sealed. Still bleeding but it is minimal now."

 

"Natasha went after him," he added unsure if he or Natasha had told Phil that.

 

"Natasha, informed me that she was going after the Captain when she reported your injuries. The medics are five minutes away from you," a click sounds as Phil turns his comm to a wider broadcast making Clint grateful that his babbling and Phil's worry had not been on view for all of SHIELD.

 

"Agent Romanov, what is your position and do you have the Captain in view," Phil asked over the comms. Silence greeted them for several seconds, long enough that Clint could hear Phil taking a breath to repeat himself when a male voice came over the comms.

 

"So Romanov is the dame's name, umm," the male voice asked calmly and Clint felt suddenly more alert as a spike of adrenalin coursed through him. The voice, with its Brooklyn drawl, was unmistakably Captain America's which meant that he had taken down Natasha.

 

"Son of a bitch," Clint cursed loudly then froze as he realized that his outburst might just have signed Natasha's death sentence if she was not dead already. It was never good to anger a man that might have a hostage.

 

"I'll have you know that my Ma was a saint and she made the best apple pies this side of the Atlantic," the Captain's voice sounded over the comms and Clint breathed a silent sigh of relief at the amusement in that voice.

 

"Captain, I am Agent Phil Coulson of SHIELD. We are a branch of the US government that," Phil started but was cut off by the Captain's snort of amusement.

 

"I take it back you guys can't be HYDRA. Even HYDRA didn't repeat themselves this much," the man said in amused derision.

"Every one of you goons is constantly going on about SHIELD, which I am sure stands for something very long and very impressive," the sarcasm in his voice was so thick that Clint was pretty sure it might be tangible. Of course the tangible sarcasm might just have been random starbursts in his vision from blood lose, he wasn't totally sure at that point "but at the moment I could care less what your super, secret spy organization is all about."

 

"And how do you know that we are a secret spy organization, Captain," Phil asked after a stunned silence.

 

"Please, I wasn't dropped off the boat yesterday. You don't train people like this dame or Robin Hood back there to go on army raids. Plus you were able to lock down at least a section of New York; that takes power and influence. The regular forces might have the clot but not even in a hundred years would they be as organized as this, not with all the politicking that goes on," the Captain replied with a snort but then his voice turned serious as he said "But I don't give a damn about that at the moment. What I do care about is the people you have chasing me. I've been being gentle so far but if you don't call them off I will have no choice but to eliminate every person you put in front of me."

 

"Captain, we don't intend any harm. We just want to help you," Phil said over the comm sincerity in his voice. Clint could well imagine that Phil truly just wanted to help his hero but he wondered if that was what the higher ups wanted. Fury was a good guy but totally focused on the mission which could make him forget about the individuals that his actions could affect and the World Security Council were out for themselves first and foremost. As if sensing his thoughts the Captain snorted before telling them "I think you might actually mean that but that is not what everyone at your organization wants."

 

"Captain," Phil started but the Captain interruptted him with a growl "I know about the blood samples that the team took from me before I woke up and that you are attempting to copy the serum."

 

There was a stunned silence on the comms and Clint winced as he realized what that conversation was going to do for moral.

 

"Captain, I wasn't aware of this," Phil said after a few seconds of silence then added "but we can settle that. Have the samples destroyed and help you..."

 

The Captain's bitter laugh cut him off until finally he spit out in a voice of such bitter, fury that it made Clint flinch "If you wanted to help me then you should have left me in that ice to rot."

 

Silence once again reined over the comms and that was the reason Clint heard the Captain's nearly broken voice whisper "At least then I could of dreamed of him instead of waking up in a world without him."

 

Clint was completely confused by that but before he could give it any more thought the Captain spoke angrily "Agent Coulson, if you value your men at all you will call off this hunt. If I find anymore of your people coming for me I will dump their bodies at your feet."

 

"Captain," Phil called but was once more cut off as a crunching noise came over the comms followed by a burst of static.

 

"Agent Coulson, we have lost the signal from Agent Romanov's comm," a female voice called over the comms her voice wavering only slightly.

 

"What was the last known position for the comm," Phil asked briskly.

 

"Two blocks east of Carnegie Hall, sir. I will send the exact coordinates to your phone," the agent said quickly.

 

"I want a medic team and two strike teams to head to Carnegie Hall. You are not to approach the Captain's last known position until all teams are at the hall and can move out together. If Captain America is still in the area retreat from the area immediately and we will wait for another opportunity to collect Agent Romanov," Phil ordered. Clint's heart clenched with worry as he was reminded that they still did not know what had happened to Natasha. From past experience, Clint knew that Natasha would not go down easily and he wondered if the Captain would have been able to take her out without killing her.

 

"Agent Barton, the med vac is only a block from you what is your status," Phil's voice called over the comms.

 

"Fiiine," Clint stuttered shivering suddenly causing his teeth to clack together.

 

"Clint," Phil called breaking his professional demeanor in his worry for him.

 

"Jussta coollld. Ssshoocck," Clint stuttered.

 

Red lights flashed before his eyes distracting Clint from Phil's concerned voice and the next thing he knew a person was grabbing his arm. On reflex he snapped the person's wrist back and was about to break the person's wrist when Phil's sharp tone of voice catches his attention.

 

"Clint, let the medic go. They are there to help you. Let him go," Phil told him sternly as he pronounced each word clearly. Clint blinked before frowning and finally releasing the man's hand. He blinked blearily up at the man in front of him and noted the beta's weary expression and his SHIELD issue medic uniform.

 

"Soorri," he slurred to the man who nodded looking somewhat reassured as he moved to tend to his shoulder.

 

Clint blinked repeatedly trying to clear his head but the black spots filling his vision just kept growing until he was falling into them and loosing track of everything else.

 

 

 


End file.
